


Father's Day

by everhutcher



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 20:32:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7329697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everhutcher/pseuds/everhutcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Mellark family celebrates new beginnings by reviving an old tradition. Originally posted on Tumblr as part of District 12 Drabbles Prompt #6 (Children). I do not own The Hunger Games or its characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Father's Day

“Are we there yet, daddy?”

“You know how you’ll know when we’re there?”

“How?”

“We’ll stop walking.” 

Willow scowled in that familiar way that was so reminiscent of her mother that Peeta couldn’t help but smile at her. Katniss’s miniature in really almost every way, their daughter rolled her eyes, set her lips in a grim line and trudged onward.

Behind him, Peeta heard Katniss’s vain attempt to stifle a chuckle. He glanced over his shoulder with a crooked smile. As Katniss realized she’d been caught, his smile was returned with a nearly identical scowl to the one their daughter had. “You know you just wind her up when you do that, Peeta,” she scolded.

Now it was Peeta’s turn to laugh, though he didn’t try to hide it, winning another glare from both his wife and daughter. “Aww, it’s just a bit of teasing. She has such an old soul, you know? Sometimes she just needs to be more of... a goofy kid.” He shrugged.

Katniss’s eyes clouded. “Willow never saw any of the terrible things we’ve seen; but sometimes, I feel it’s as if she just inherited something of that from us.” Peeta’s mood turned sober as well, and he nodded solemnly. Neither of them had ever quite outgrown the nightmares of the arena. He still had moments when flashbacks from tracker jacker venom distorted his vision. Katniss still cried Prim’s name out in the night now and again. 

Peeta gently took Katniss’s hand, pulling her back into the present. She looked at him and found an earnest look of love that still managed to startle her at times. Peeta could be so carefree that he almost seemed flippant; but she knew he felt deeply and passionately, whether it was about enjoying life or mourning what was lost. 

Peeta squeezed her hand and sighed. “She’s a serious child, but so was her mother, as I recall, even as far back as kindergarten. Willow’s not unhappy, Katniss. Not like we were. She’ll be fine.”

Katniss nodded slowly, recognizing the sense in Peeta’s words. A quiet, skeptical disposition did not equal unhappiness. Willow had two parents who loved her and protected her. That was something neither Katniss nor Peeta could say they’d had as children. It’s why they so fiercely loved and protected one another, even before either of them could realize what love was.

They strolled quietly after that, along a slightly worn path winding through the trees that only Katniss really knew these days. Few had traversed this road over the years, even after the fence had been permanently dismantled. After their return to District 12, her father’s old cabin on the lake had become a sanctuary for the former “star-crossed lovers.” The cabin was a constant amid the destruction of 12, and then the noise of reconstruction which followed the war. Throughout, the cabin was whole, safe, serene, secure.

Katniss was fairly certain they had conceived Willow in that cabin, when a late autumn snowstorm surprised everyone in the district and ensured they’d be snowbound for nearly three and a half days. There were only so many times Peeta could sketch Katniss before the intense way he watched her brought on the urge within her to drag him to the bed and strip them both of their clothes. Katniss was half-smiling to herself at the recollection when Peeta’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

“I’m still wondering what we’re doing out here, Katniss. Sundays are usually one of our busiest days at the bakery, as you well know. It’s not like you to encourage us to shirk our responsibilities.”

Katniss attempted to dismiss his question with a flick of her hand. “Delly has it covered. You know I took care of it, so relax and enjoy it.”

“Woah, are you sure you’re all right? That sounds like something I would say to you, you know,” Peeta grinned. “I am enjoying it. I just don’t know why you were so insistent that we had to do this today.”

When Katniss didn’t answer, Peeta turned to look at her and caught the hint of a smile on her lips. But she said nothing. Peeta shook his head and smiled back. If she wanted to play this game, he’d go along with it.

As they approached the cabin, Peeta noted that the small front porch seemed newly swept, and the two windows that flanked the door also seemed to be clean. Someone had been here recently.  

Another look at Katniss was met by another small mysterious smile and a twinkle in his wife’s gray eyes. Ahead of them, Willow was already hurtling toward the door, her two coal black braids flying behind her. She clambered up the steps but stopped short of the door and whirled around with a grin on her face, clasping her hands together and bouncing up and down. “Come on, daddy!”

Peeta looked from daughter to mother and back again. “What on earth are the pair of you up to?”

“Come on!” Willow insisted. As Peeta stepped onto the porch, Willow wrapped her arms around Peeta’s forearm and tugged. He reached over his daughter’s head and pushed the old wooden door open, but stopped just inside the doorway.

“Surprise!” 

Katniss - and clearly Willow, too, from her excitement - had definitely been here already. The cabin’s old furniture had been dusted, and the smell of herbs lingered in the air where the girls had left some sachets to freshen the space. The bed was neatly made with clean white sheets and pillowcases, covered in a soft quilt Katniss’s mother had hand-sewn decades earlier. A soft pallet with a cozy blanket was made up on the floor for their daughter. New firewood was neatly stacked in front of the hearth, ready to be lit when the late spring evening grew too cool.

His eyes glanced over these details rather quickly, but it was the small dining table that finally drew his attention. Neatly draped with a pale blue gingham cloth, the table sat empty except for one familiar item. 

Any Mellark worthy of the name had radar when it came to baked goods.

A small cake lay on a plate under one of the bakery’s glass display domes. It was smeared with globs of frosting; some orange, some blue, some pink. Piped onto the top in Willow’s shaky script was the phrase  _ Happy Father’s Day. _

“Father’s Day?” Peeta repeated dumbly. 

Willow let go of his arm and hugged him tightly about as high as she could reach, which was just above his hips. He felt Katniss’s arms go around him from behind as she rested her head over his right shoulder. 

“It’s an old tradition from before the dark days,” Willow told him. “I learned about it in school!”

Katniss murmured into his ear as he digested this piece of information. “Imagine it, Peeta. They lived in a world where they celebrated fatherhood. Parenting didn’t mean sending your babies off to a Reaping.” Peeta turned his head slightly as he pressed his lips to hers. Standing in the circle of limbs of the two most precious people in the world to him, Peeta didn’t try to stop the moisture that prickled his eyes and threatened to spill over. “The cake is beautiful, Will. I love it.” Their daughter beamed up at him. “So,” he continued, sniffling slightly as he looked down at Willow, “what exactly does one do to celebrate Father’s Day?”

“Nothing!” Willow giggled. “You get to do nothing, and we do things for you all day. Like cook for you and give you presents!”

“All day, huh? What will you do for me all night?” Peeta whispered as he looked at Katniss, raising his eyebrows suggestively. 

Katniss playfully punched him in the arm. “Behave, you. She’s been planning this for days.”

Next Willow produced a carefully wrapped package, in which Peeta found a new sketchbook and art supplies. “To keep here and use whenever you want!” Willow explained. The trio took the new items outside, where Katniss and Willow set up the picnic lunch they’d brought with them. They wouldn’t even let Peeta help unfurl the blanket, no matter how much he protested. Peeta began to sketch as they put out the carefully-planned meal of all of Peeta’s favorites. They ate in the warm sunlight and enjoyed the peace of the afternoon. 

Soon, Willow was begging to go swimming and Katniss looked apologetically at Peeta, who had still never quite mastered anything beyond treading water. He waved them on with a smile. “My Father’s Day will be perfect if I can watch my two favorite girls having fun. I’ll be right here drawing.” 

As Katniss and Willow splashed in the clear, crisp lake, Peeta took in the view before him, a scene playing out beyond anything he could have dared to dream. All the threats were gone. The Reaping, the Games, and the war had all done their parts to make all this nothing more than wishful thinking. 

But here they were in spite of the odds. His wife. His daughter. 

His family. 

_His._ _Always._

The pencil fell absently from Peeta’s fingers. He was so much inside his own head that he never noticed Katniss quietly coming out of the water or settling down on the blanket beside him.

“I know that look. Where have you gone, Peeta Mellark?”

The voice was gentle, with only the tiniest bit of concern that Peeta’s reverie was anything more than that; not the shadow of what Snow had done to him invading this sacred place. Peeta’s warm, shy smile reassured her immediately. 

“I’m living in a dream, Katniss. My life with you and Willow is exactly where I want to be.” Peeta looked up at her through his long eyelashes, and she leaned in to press her lips softly to his, a gentle kiss of understanding. He took one of her hands in his. “I’m not sure anything could make this day better.”

“Oh?” 

Katniss sounded worried, and Peeta’s face fell slightly. “What is it, Katniss?”

“Peeta... you don’t want anything to change? At all?”

Peeta looked confused. “Not one thing.” He watched as his wife worried her lower lip with her teeth and avoided looking at him. Something had her unnerved.

She drew in a long breath, as she often did when she needed to calm herself. “I think you might… you might want this  _ one _ thing.”

Peeta’s attention was drawn to the movement of Katniss’s free hand, which she draped across her bare stomach. His eyes widened in realization that her belly was swelling just slightly over the edge of her bathing suit. 

His eyes darted up to meet hers, which were glimmering with unshed tears. The smile he gave her threatened to split his face. 

Usually he was the one that was good with words. This time, he couldn’t utter a syllable. So she did.

“Happy Father’s Day, Peeta.”


End file.
